Encounters of the Witchy Kind
by astral-angel
Summary: He tries to save her, but she's only after his cousin. 20 Minutes with Graham (BtVS, Hp - Graham, Katie) Fin


**Title:** Encounters of the Witchy Kind  
  
**Author:** Mauzi  
  
**Email:**   
  
**Category:** BtVS/Harry Potter  
  
**Characters:** Graham, Katie   
  
**Disclaimer:** All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon and co. All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Distribution:** Twisting the Hellmouth, , others ask first  
  
**Rating:** PG  
  
**Spoilers:** Nothing much. Post Hogwarts for Katie and co, pre Adam (S4 for BtVS)

**Summary: **He tries to save her, but she's only after his cousin.  
  
**Notes:** For the 20 min with Graham challenge at TtH (420). First attempt at one of these, and as such, it has no discernible plot.

**Part 1/1**

The scream echoed throughout the empty street, piercing the silence. Graham Miller, knowing that it was entirely inappropriate, rolled his eyes. Would the residents of Sunnydale never learn to stay indoors after nightfall? Evidently not. His muscles tensed as he listened intently, trying to pinpoint the origin of the scream. His eyes scanned the dimly lit street and he smiled grimly as he spotted the dark entrance to the alley. He sprang into action, his footsteps echoing. His hands closed over the dart gun he held, readying the weapon as he neared the opening. Stepping into the space, his body silhouetted by the light behind him, he thrust the gun out, his finger positioned over the trigger, ready to shoot at the HST.

"Oh, hullo." The voice was feminine, and Graham dimly realised that the scream had echoed from her mouth. It was quite a pretty mouth too, shining pink in the dim light. His eyes then fell to the ground in front of her, watching the slight breeze swirl the ash around, before his gaze flew back to her face, a slightly nervous expression gracing the pale skin.

"Who are you?" His voice was firm, his gun now pointed at her, eyes narrowed. The girl looked at him, visibly frightened, before a shuttered look appeared on her face, her jaw tightening. She raised her hand, a polished stick clenched in her fists. She shook her head, blonde hair flying around a she shifted, her body tensing. He eyed the faint definition of muscle in her arm and then frowned, his fingers flexing over the trigger. "Who are you?"

The girl ignored him again, instead looking around. "This is Sunnydale, right?" She had an English accent, he realized with a jolt.

"I'm asking the questions here." She snorted, eyeing him with derision.

"Why, because you're the male?" He smirked.

"Because I've got the weapon." She grinned again, almost feral. She whispered something under her breath, and Graham jerked with shock as the dart gun flew from his hands, hitting the wall behind her with a dull thud.

"Really?" His eyes darted back and forth between the wall and her, face paling. The smile on her face faded. "Now, tell me who you are and why you were so bloody eager to shoot me before I hex you into next week."

"Hex?" His eyebrows lifted fractionally, disbelief starting to play over his face before he remembered the gun. He sighed, resigning himself to his fate. "Graham Miller. And I wasn't going to shoot you." Her face flashed with surprise, and then to his shock, she groaned.

"Great." He looked at her curiously. "Jut bloody great." She sighed, fixing him with a baleful glare. "Graham Miller. You go to U.C. Sunnydale, right?" He blinked, allowing himself to relax marginally. He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. She shook her head, muttering to herself. "Trust you to threaten the guy you're looking for Bell... wait 'till Fred and George hear about this one."

"Your name's Bell?" She rolled her eyes, and all of a sudden Graham's mind flashed back to his cousin's ramblings about 'Bell', his blonde haired best friend. "You're Bell?"

"My name is Katie... Katie Bell." She rolled her eyes again, so lowering her arm. "So, Wood's hiding out here?" He looked at her.

"Oliver? Yeah, he's staying here for the summer." She sighed again and stepped forward, handing him a thickly rolled up piece of rough paper. He glanced at it with interest before his yes fell back to her.

"Could you give that to him? And make sure he reads it, okay?" He nodded, slightly bemused. She smiled brightly. "And tell him that he should come and see me after he gets his head out of his arse." He laughed softly, offering his arm to her.

"Well, that's a first. Most girls swoon over Oliver and that accent of his. I think I'm going to enjoy talking to you."

She took the proffered arm, looking up at him as they walked.

"Yeah, but that's because I've got the same accent as him – I don't really notice it. Now, you on the other hand, have quite the yummy accent."

He looked at her, amused. Had she really just called his accent yummy? He spoke, the words leaving his mouth before he could censor them.

"Oliver's accent is more Scottish ... yours is different. It suits you ... soft and pretty."

She blushed, ducking her head.

"So, you never answered my question. What were you doing with the gun?" He smirked at the obvious change in subject.

"I'll tell you ... if you let me know exactly how you did that thing back there." She shrugged.

"Magic. I'm a witch. Like Oliver, 'cept, you know, male, so wizard."

"Magic. As in 'double double, toil and trouble'?"

"Something like that." She shot him an amused glance.

"That's, well, cool."

So, maybe Riley wasn't so crazy about the whole 'Slayer' thing.

**Fin**


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